We all know dreams are strange and unusual, but once in a while we have this one dream that's just so weird and up surd we can't stop thinking about it. This describes the non-lucid dream I had last night which, in my opinion, my subconscious just decided to throw on me to mess with me instead of providing a dream with a message.

So here it goes:

So I was in the passenger seat of my van with my father and younger brother. My dad drove and my brother sat in the back, so it started out pretty normal. The scenery outside was a little odd, but not too much. We were on a highway with no other cars. On the left was a cityscape, and on the right was a big open field.

As we drove, Dad told us we were going to church. The funny thing was, we weren't wearing the appropriate clothes. Just t-shirts and jeans. After Dad relayed the news to us, he asked if we were hungry. Replying yes, we started to look for a place to eat. I spotted a burrito restaurant, which hovered over the highway, but Dad said beans and flying were outlawed and we settled on a taco place.

We stopped in the parking lot, got out, and Dad and my brother approached the building. There wasn't a single door, just an ordering window built into the cobblestone building. As the two ordered, I leaned against a stone pillar a few yards away and waited. Out of nowhere, these guys in construction hats came up to me and began to build a table around me. I paid them no mind, strangely enough, and they continued until a circular, wooden table surrounded me. I only had control of my arms and head, as the upper torso is all they left uncovered.

A minute later, here comes Robert Irvine (British Chef) with a handful of money. He places it on the table and pulls up a chair, saying he's making a bet. He didn't specify. Right after that, the Romneys come up and Mitt slams a fistful of money on the table too, saying he'll take that bet. Seconds later, my brother and father join up, empty-handed, and take a seat around the table, slapping some money down too.

Robert then reaches into his shirt, pulls out a deck of playing cards, poker chips and a visor, and begins dealing. The game begins, and it never stops for what feels like hours as the table floats through several different scenery, including space, the countryside, a city, and underwater.

I suddenly find myself in the basement of my old house, staring at the table. I was suddenly free, and there was no hole in the table where I once was. I also noticed the people around the table are missing, including the money, poker chips and the cards. As I scratch my head in wonder, I hear a distant screaming. I look up to see the Romneys, Robert, and my brother and father hurtling down toward me ad lightning-fast speeds. They then slam into the table with a huge thud, shattering it into several pieces and sending money, cards and chips flying everywhere. The stuff rains from the sky, just like confetti.

When the chaos clears, there's everyone in one large pile, with Robert right on top of them.